Let's Pretend This Never Happened
by siobhane
Summary: Selphie plans a relaxing bachelorette weekend at a luxury resort and spa, where there's dancing, drinking, 24-hour wedding chapels, and permanent criminal records awaiting the bridal party. Before it's over, Selphie will have to face a fear she's avoided for far too long: is she really ready to get married?
1. Chapter 1

1

* * *

Selphie woke up sprawled across the foot of a king-sized bed, a sheet twisted around her body like a hungry boa constrictor bent on swallowing her whole. She moaned and rolled over, her head pounding, only to discover she wasn't alone.

"Rin, scoot over," she complained. "You're taking up the whole bed."

The groan that came from her bedmate indicated that either Rinoa's voice deepened an octave and a half overnight, she'd contracted a really nasty cold, or whoever Selphie shared her bed with was most likely a male of unspecified origin.

Alarmed, Selphie propped herself up and eyed the tiara tangled up in straw-blonde strands of hair that were definitely too short to belong to Quistis.

She leaped out of bed, her stranger-danger alarm in full effect. She forgot about the sheet and crashed to the floor face-first with her arms still tangled in fabric. Unsure of what hurt worse – her face or her head – she pushed to her knees and flailed herself free of the bedding.

Slowly she stood and detected something was _off_. Something was definitely not right.

Where the heck was her skirt? And why was she wearing _pants_?

Selphie was positive she wasn't wearing pants yesterday. She was pretty sure she didn't pack a single pair for this trip. She wasn't sure if she even _owned_ a pair of pants, especially not coeurl print skinny pants.

Though, they were pretty awesome, even if they were too big in the waist and fit like boy pants.

At least she was fully dressed, but that only raised more questions.

Who was in her bed?

And where the hell was her engagement ring?! Instead of the pretty princess cut canary diamond, on her finger was a silver band with a skull on it.

"What the heck?" she asked out loud.

The boy in the bed groaned and lifted his head.

He was cute, in a pretty sort of way and reminded Selphie of a chocobo, though chocobos didn't have freckles, but if they did, they'd look like this guy.

Before Selphie could start asking questions, her phone rang.

"What?!" she barked into the phone.

"Selphie? Where are you?"

"I'm..." Oh, crap. _Irvine._ He could not know about this, whatever _this_ was. "Why are you yelling at me?"

"I'm not yelling," he said. "Where are you? Zell went to meet you guys at the ferry, two hours ago. We're supposed to be getting married tomorrow, remember?"

Oh crap. Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap!

"Sorry, bad connection!" she shouted. "I can't hear you! Let me call you back, okay? Okay, byeeeee!"

With a shriek, she tossed her phone into an armchair and noticed a bouquet of flowers wrapped in yellow ribbon and an envelope with the address of a place called "Jackrabbit Nuptials," a seaside establishment that offered 24-hour no-wait weddings.

She looked at the boy on the bed and watched him untangle the tiara from his hair. Was this even her room? What happened last night?

"Guess you got in my pants after all," Chocobo-boy said with a grin, but his face fell at Selphie's look of abject horror. "They look pretty good on you, though."

A weird, ugly feeling swelled up from the pit of Selphie's stomach.

Matching rings. A bouquet. Jackrabbit Nuptials

He sat up and Selphie almost choked as he tugged at the strap of her favorite chocobo print sundress and frowned down at himself.

"This... is not such a great look for me."

What _happened_ last night?

It was all such a blur. Dinner with her bridesmaids, drinks, dancing, a boy that reminded her of a chocobo and a conversation that began with the words, " _I like your pants._ "

The very same pants she now wore.

"Oh god," Selphie moaned. "What have I done?!"

* * *

 _36 hours ago..._

* * *

Quistis leaned against the door of her luxury-class Tempest and waited as Selphie and Irvine said goodbye in typical Selphie and Irvine fashion. She turned her eyes away, toward the other couple, whose goodbye was less showy or handsy but just as uncomfortable to watch.

"Just say goodbye already," Zell muttered. "It's not like you're going to be gone for weeks or something."

Quistis patted Zell's arm, glad she wasn't the only one annoyed by the PDA.

"Sure you don't want to come with us?" Quistis asked.

"Thanks for asking," Zell said, "but I'm not really into toenail painting or mud pies or whatever it is you girls do at those fancy spa places."

"I think you'd find a pedicure very relaxing," Quistis said. "Proper foot care is important."

Zell snorted. "Sounds like something Squall would say."

"SeeD manual, article 19, section G," Quistis said. "Take care of your feet, in a nutshell."

"You know the entire thing by rote, don't you?"

"Don't you?"

"I memorized stuff for the exam, but I forgot the boring parts as soon as it was over," Zell said. He stepped away from the car and cleared his throat. "Yo! Ferry's about to board. Cease and desist with the face-sucking!"

Sheepish, Squall stepped away from Rinoa, his cheeks rosy, and angled his head toward Irvine's massive land-yacht of a car. Quistis doubted its road-worthiness based on appearance alone. It sported multiple dents and scratches, the back bumper hung a little lower on the left side from the time Selphie borrowed it and backed into a bus in Deling City. Chipped and peeling paint surrounded all four wheel wells, covered a portion of the hood and most of the trunk. The back windows didn't roll down, and a long crack stretched across the windshield. When he started it, the entire thing shuddered like it caught cold.

"You have a roadside emergency kit in that thing, right?" Quistis asked. "And a spare?"

Irvine rolled his eyes but tipped his hat and offered Quistis his most charming smile.

"We're not driving cross country," Irvine said. "Pretty sure she'll make it to the the other side of the island and back. Hell, even if she breaks down, it's not like we'll have far to walk. Besides, she's in just as good a shape as your fancy luxury car, she's just not as pretty."

"If you say so," Quistis said. "Keep your phones charged and make sure at least one of you puts that roadside assistance number on speed dial. Just in case."

"Yes, mom," Zell said. He kissed her cheek. "Don't worry, I got this. If anything goes wrong, I can fix it."

Quistis' confidence in the boy's ability to survive this excursion improved somewhat at the reminder her friend could fix pretty much anything. Even if the car did break down, both Squall and Zell trained half their lives to fight and survive in the worst of conditions. Irvine? Not so much, but she trusted they would look after him if something happened.

Never mind. The he campground was only about ten miles from Garden. Irvine was right. Worst case scenario, they could walk back.

"Let's blow this ice cream stand!" Selphie cried and barreled toward the Tempest, a sparkly tiara on her head. How she managed to run in flip-flops mystified Quistis. "Car karaoke time! I've got first dibs on music. And I call shotgun!"

"I already called shotgun," Rinoa said. "An hour ago."

"You did not. And anyway, I'm the one getting married, so suck it!"

"We're getting on the ferry, Selphie," Quistis reminded her. "No point in car karaoke for 3 minutes of drive time."

"There so is!"

Quistis pressed her palm to her forehead. They hadn't even left Balamb yet, and already she regretted her decision to go along with this. She preferred a quieter affair, to keep the festivities small, but she'd be a fool to expect Selphie Tilmitt to do anything on a small scale. Especially not her wedding.

While the boys roughed it in the wilderness, the girls were bound for a swanky new hotel on the coast near Timber that offered massages, spas, 3 luxury pools, beach access, in-hotel bars, shopping, gourmet dining and a poolside nightclub. Once they'd been thoroughly pampered, the trio would return to Balamb for the final wedding preparations.

"No strip clubs, Irvy!" Selphie shouted as she opened the passenger door. "You hear me?"

"I'm pretty sure we're not going to find a strip club hidden in the middle of the woods, Selphie," Squall said.

"How do I know camping isn't a euphemism for something you don't want to tell me about?"

"Considering we'd have to leave the island for that kind of debauchery," Zell said, "It's a pretty safe bet that camping actually means camping."

"Better be," Selphie grumbled.

Quistis started the engine and tugged her wayward friend into the passenger seat as the ferry's horn blared to signal it was time for vehicles to board.

"Close the door, Selphie," Quistis said. "We're holding up the line."

"What, all two cars behind us?" Selphie scoffed, but she obeyed and rolled down the window to wave and blow kisses until Irvine was out of sight. "I better not find out they've gone to a strip club."

"What's the big deal?" Rinoa asked. "It's not like any of the girls that work there would go home with him."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Selphie demanded.

Rinoa sat back and crossed her arms. "Whatever you want it to mean, Selphie."

Like Quistis, Rinoa was a little over the whole wedding thing. Both were happy the two decided to commit, but the work and preparations for it ate up a lot of their respective free time, something Selphie didn't seem to understand was a finite resource. And both were ready for the moment the two said their vows so they wouldn't have to hear about it any more.

Quistis steered the car into the cargo bay and parked in her assigned spot. Beside her, Selphie bounced in her seat and fiddled with the knobs on the dash.

"Please don't touch," Quistis said. "They're pre-set, the way I like them."

"Fine," Selphie said. "Why's everybody being such cranky-pants today?" She turned to Rinoa in the back. "Do you need more coffee? Because the cafe on board has this really great double espresso thing with whipped cream and chocolate drizzle on top. We should get some of those. My treat!"

In the rear view, Quistis saw Rinoa's forced smile, caught her eye, and smiled back. Though they weren't close, Quistis had a feeling they would end up relying on one another for sanity over the next few days. Rinoa's answering nod seemed to agree.

"Sure, Selphie. That's sounds great."


	2. Chapter 2

2

* * *

Selphie was in the midst of a meltdown when there came a loud banging on the door. The boy on the bed hopped up, the skirts of Selphie's dress swishing around his thighs and the tiara sparkling in the light as he approached the door.

Prompto. She remembered now. His name was Prompto... something.

She'd drunk married him and didn't even know his last name.

"Don't answer it!" Selphie shrieked.

He didn't get a chance to respond before the door burst open and a very disheveled Quistis barged in. Her mascara was smeared, the whites of her eyes were blood-shot, and she smelled like baked goods, alcohol, and stale cigarette smoke.

"We have a problem," Quistis said.

"Besides you just inviting yourself in?" Selphie said.

"Um, maybe I should go?" Prompto said.

"No," Quistis said. She paused, stared at him for a second, then turned an accusing glare at Selphie. "You just liked his pants, huh?"

"I should really go," he said.

"Prompto, right? You stay. I might need your help."

Prompto blinked at her, reached up to remove the tiara and took a self-conscious step back.

"Don't you judge me," Selphie said. "Not when you walk in here looking like you were rode hard and put up wet. Hope you had a great time, by the way, and thanks for just leaving me alone while you went out and had your fun! Hope he was worth it!"

"How dare you!" Quistis cried.

"Just saying. It was supposed to be all about me, you know. You guys are the worst bridesmaids ever," Selphie said. She took a deep breath. She didn't want to fight with her friend. Not when Selphie had just screwed up her own wedding by having a wedding before the wedding. "So? What happened?"

"Seifer's passed out in my bathtub covered in blood," Quistis said, "there are wild animals roaming the lobby, someone's trashed the room, and Rinoa is missing."

"She's probably off drinking something fruity by the pool," Selphie said dismissively. "Besides we have bigger problems than that! The real problem is that I..."

How did she explain? How did she tell Quistis that she did something so stupid? On the eve of her wedding, no less.

"I um, I kinda..."

"Spit it out, Selphie. We don't have time for this!"

Selphie held out her hand, the one with the ring on it, and started bawling.

"I got married!" she sobbed. "To _not_ -Irvy! And I lost my engagement ring!"

"You what?"

"I don't remember it!" she wailed.

"Wait a sec," Prompto said. "I think maybe I can help clear this up. Last night's kind of a blur, but I took a lot of pictures."

Prompto went to the table and picked up his camera. He turned to Quistis and held it out to her.

Quistis scrolled through photos, stopped on one, and turned a stunned gaze on both of them.

"I don't remember this."

"Oh, yeah! That's Jackrabbt Nuptials," Prompto said. "Totally romantic little place. Surprisingly decent food."

Selphie started to sob again. How was she supposed to tell Irvine? She didn't even want to see the photographic evidence. Not even a little bit. If she had her way, Prompto would delete every last one of them, and then she'd haul him back down to the chapel and make him sign an annulment. Then she would threaten physical violence and maybe grenades if anyone ever mentioned this to anyone.

"This is a joke, right?" Quistis said, suddenly very, very pale. "This didn't actually happen."

Prompto patted Quistis' arm. She sat down on the end of the bed, clutching the camera in her hands.

"Oh, it happened alright," he said with a grin. "And it was awesome."

* * *

 _24 hours ago..._

* * *

Swanky was the wrong word for the Poseidon Luxury Spa and Resort. Never in her life had Rinoa seen such a fancy hotel, and Deling City boasted some of the fanciest in the world. It took up over three blocks and towered twenty stories high, the treated glass windows shimmering like emeralds in the late afternoon sun. She gawked at the transplanted Centran Palm trees and exotic flowers and stark white marble fountains as Selphie sprinted toward the lobby in a blur of sunflower print fabric, shrieks of joy trailing in her wake.

"They have a casino, too!" Selphie cried.

Rinoa paused by a sign that boasted a fantasy convention featuring actors, merchandise, and costumed events.

 ** _This weekend only! Get your Moogle on at Mooglecon!_**

 _Fun! Prizes! Games! And More!_

 _Enter to win the coveted Garment!_

 _Vote for your favorite celebrity impersonator!_

 _Ride and pet the chocobos!_

 _Mingle with Moombas!_

 _And show up in costume, or don't show up at all!_

"Mooglecon," she said to herself. "Oh, boy. Quistis? We have a problem."

She pointed to the sign and watched her friend's face screw up like she just sucked a lemon.

"She did this on purpose," Quistis predicted.

"You think?"

"I know."

"What the heck is the coveted garment?" Rinoa wondered.

"I really don't want to find out."

"Come ON, guys!" Selphie called. "Last one to the casino is a rotten Visage!"

"We didn't come to gamble, we came to relax," Quistis called back. "And we need to check in first!"

Selphie, predictably, did not heed Quistis' suggestion.

"Hyne knows, we've earned a massage," Rinoa mumbled.

"Haven't we, though?" Quistis said. "I'm getting my massage, if it's the last thing we do."

"Even if we have to hog tie her in the hotel room," Rinoa said, "and gag her with a pair of socks."

"You slip some sleep powders in her drink," Quistis said, "and I'll handle the hog-tying."

"I'm good with that."

Selphie's excitement over this was understandable, and at first, the planning and preparations were fun. After a while, when it was the only topic of conversation for months on end, it lost its luster. At this point, Rinoa would be glad if she never heard the words wedding, married, or ceremony again.

"I promise you, if Squall and I ever walk this plank together, we'll just elope and tell you later," Rinoa told Quistis. "I won't put anyone through this insanity."

"Same. Not that marriage is even on my radar, but still," Quistis said. She hitched the strap of her overnight bag higher on her shoulder and nodded toward the door Selphie disappeared through. "Let's go corral the bridezilla and check in."

They found Selphie with her face pressed against the glass of a massive enclosure. Beyond the glass, tropical foliage, rocks and sand suggested it was some kind of animal habitat.

"Heeeere, snakey-snakey-snakey," Selphie chanted, as though a snake had ears with which to hear her plea. "Come out, come out, wherever you are!"

"It's nocturnal, Selphie," Quistis said. "It's not going to come out just because you insist."

"How do you know?"

"It says right here on the information card," Quistis said. "The Centran Boa Constrictor is nocturnal and can grow up to thirty meters long in captivity."

Rinoa instinctively recoiled from the glass, not only because snakes were not her favorite, but also because she had feelings about zoos and captive wild animals. It wasn't right to take an animal from the wild and put it in a cage for people like Selphie to gawk at.

She understood that most captive animals were well taken care of. They got a balanced diet and regular feedings, and many lived longer than they might in the wild. There was no threat of predators and the risk of disease or illness was minimized due to veterinary care, but it couldn't be good for their psychological well being to be stared at by hundreds of people every day or not be able to roam free or learn to hunt their own food.

It was one thing if the animal wouldn't survive outside of captivity. She knew for injured, lame or endangered animals a sanctuary was the best option. What she didn't agree with was the capturing and caging of healthy animals for show.

She turned away from the snake enclosure, only to find there were more animals. To the left, a sign boasted a monkey exhibit, and to the right, inside a glass cage big enough to contain actual trees, a huge lion lay in the grass, lethargic and pitiful.

Rinoa had never seen a real lion. By the time Deling City Zoo got one, Rinoa already believed zoos were no better than D-District and refused to visit. Lions were also extremely rare, except for the Trabian snow lion variety, and those were some kind of hybrid and not a true lion anyway.

She stood at the glass and stared at the poor, pathetic, scarred creature and thought of Squall and his quiet but obvious fascination with an animal that had been hunted almost to extinction.

"Poor thing," she said. "It looks so depressed."

"Its sleeping, Rin," Selphie said. "Everyone looks depressed when they sleep."

"Its eyes are open."

"It's sleeping with it's eyes open," Selphie whispered. "Irvine does it all the time."

"Eww."

"Yeah," Selphie agreed. "Gosh, I just want to pet them all!"

"We need to check in," Quistis reminded them. "We can look at the animals later."

Selphie whined, but Rinoa agreed. As she walked away, she cast one last glance at lion and decided now that Timber was free, animal welfare would be her next big cause.

Quistis headed for the front desk, but Selphie dashed off toward the bar, likely in search of something fruity to drink. Rinoa, unable to summon the enthusiasm required to deal with Selphie in full-on hyper mode, chose to follow Quistis.

"We have reservations under Tilmitt," Quistis said. "Party of three."

The handsome young clerk typed at his computer, frowned and looked up. Rinoa cringed. She could tell just by the look on the clerk's face, something was wrong. Already.

"I'm sorry, but I don't have a reservation under that name," the clerk said. "Could it be under something else?"

"I don't think so, but maybe..." Quistis mused, "try Kinneas?"

The clerk typed. "No, ma'am."

"Please tell me she actually made reservations," Rinoa said. "And didn't forget because she was too busy making plans in her head to actually do the thing."

"Do you have the confirmation number, by chance?"

Quistis looked at Rinoa.

"I take it that means you don't have it either?" Rinoa asked. Quistis shook her head. "Let me go retrieve her before she starts a fire."

"Good luck," Quistis said. "I have a feeling you'll need it."

Selphie flitted around the bar like a bite bug on haste, a large and unnaturally pink beverage in hand. She spied Rinoa and dashed over, a broad and insane grin on her face.

"You will never believe who's here!"

"Selphie, we need you at the desk," Rinoa said. "We're having issues with check-in."

Selphie ignored her, seized her arm and dragged her toward the bar.

"Selphie, we don't have time for this."

Selphie forcibly turned Rinoa's head toward the bar, where a tall man washed beer glasses with his back to them. Rinoa pulled away, annoyed.

"Focus," Rinoa said. "Did you book the room?"

"LOOK. AT. HIM."

With exaggerated patience, Rinoa returned her gaze to the man behind the bar. Tall. Blonde. Great shoulders. Yet unremarkable as far as Rinoa was concerned.

Until he turned around.

"Seifer?" Rinoa wondered. "What is he doing here?"

"I don't know!" Selphie cried. "But shouldn't he be, I don't know, half a mile underground with no hope of ever seeing sunlight again? I can't believe a place as nice as this would give a mass murderer a job!"

"He was pardoned." Rinoa said. "Remember?"

"This totally ruins my plans!" Selphie said. "I can't have my bachelorette party tainted by unrepentant villanry!"

Rinoa put her hand to her face, counted backwards from ten and let out a long, slow breath to calm herself before she strangled Selphie to death.

"Okay, but let's go back to the most important part of your plans," Rinoa said. "Did you book the room?"

"I thought you were going to book the room," Selphie said. "I gave you all the info months ago."

Rinoa remembered the advertisement Selphie presented her, way back at the start of this thing, but she didn't recall a conversation about needing to handle the reservations herself. For starters, Rinoa didn't have the funds to pay for a place as fancy as this one. Her job at the bookstore in Balamb covered the rent on her tiny studio apartment, food, and utilities. There was no room in her budget to shell out for so much as a night at the hotel in Balamb, let alone a place where some of the rooms cost more than a month's rent. And Selphie knew that.

"Why would you think I made the reservation?" Rinoa asked. "You're the one who made all the plans."

"Yeah, no thanks to you guys," Selphie said.

"Well, then we have a big problem, Selphie," Rinoa said. "We don't have a room, and it's MoogleCon. Meaning, the place is booked solid."

* * *

"You were supposed to take care of this, Rinoa! I can't believe you didn't do your part!" Selphie shrieked. "I asked you to do one little thing, one weensy, teensy little thing, and you blew it!"

Quistis turned toward the sound of her friend's shrill voice and braced herself for catastrophe, at least as far as Selphie would see it.

"First of all, you know I don't have the cash to pay for a place this expensive, and no, my father's credit card was never an option," Rinoa said, "and second, we never had that conversation, so how is this my fault?!"

Selphie spied Quistis and burst into hacking, wet-sounding sobs and dashed toward her with arms outstretched. Quistis took an instinctive step back, only to collide with the reception desk. Selphie trapped her in the cage of her freakishly strong arms and howled into Quistis' shoulder, her words unintelligible blubbering worthy of an acting award.

"I'm not the bad guy," Rinoa said. "Stop acting like I am!"

"It'sssssss RUINEDDDDD," Selphie wailed.

"Calm down," Quistis ordered. "We'll figure something out. It's not the end of the world."

"Yesssssss ittt ISSSSSS!"

Quistis pried Selphie off of her person and turned her attention back to the clerk. Selphie stood there bawling like a child who let go of her balloon.

"Do you have any rooms available?" she asked. "We'll take whatever you have."

"Pretty sure we're all booked up, but let me check."

Quistis retrieved her gold SeeD card from her handbag and slid it across the counter. The clerk stopped typing, blinked at it, then flicked his eyes back up to Quistis.

"I'm sure we can find something for you," he said. "Ah, yes. We had a cancellation on one of our luxury suites."

"That sounds expensive."

"It is, but it has two individual bedrooms, a full bar, a hot tub, a state-of-the-art entertainment center, and a stellar view of the sea. You will also have access to the hotel's private bar, in-room massage service, and a concierge available to you at your leisure."

Quistis mentally screamed, but took care to show no outward signs of distress.

"How much a night?"

"Thirty-thousand gil," the clerk said. "But worth it. It's very luxurious."

She did the math, screamed a little louder inside her head, and considered the monetary cost versus Selphie's wrath.

"Fine. We'll take it," Quistis said. She turned to the still sniffling Selphie. "You're paying me back for this."

Selphie's tears this time were of joy. She lurched toward Quistis, her arms like the tentacles of a ravenous sea beast in search of prey. Quistis gently but firmly held her at bay.

"Now, I need you to calm down, stop crying, and behave yourself or I'll change my mind," Quistis said.

Rinoa rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. A very Squall-like gesture and a sign that all was not well.

As Quistis waited for her receipt, Selphie gave a low whistle, then a choked squeak of excitement.

"Rin! Do you see that?"

"It can't be," Rinoa said. "I bet it's cosplay. The sign outside said something about celebrity impersonators."

 _"CHOCOBOS! DID YOU SEE THAT, NOCT?! THERE ARE CHOCOBOS HERE."_

"That's gotta be them," Selphie said. "They're way too good to be frauds."

Quistis turned around, curious about what might have gotten both of them to drop their mutual grudge so fast. The pair stared toward the door, presumably at a quartet of young men all dressed in black, their clothing adorned with skulls and courel print. She eyed them but found nothing out of the ordinary about them other than their good looks.

"Who are they supposed to be?" Quistis asked.

"Have you been living in a cave?" Selphie asked. "It's the Besaid Aurochs. At least some of them, anyway."

"Who?" Quistis asked and looked to Rinoa for an explanation. "Wait, aren't they a sportsball team of some kind?"

These guys didn't look like regular athletes. All but the small one projected an aura of danger and they moved like a pack of bodyguards.

"Blitzball," Rinoa said. "We only know about them because Zell won't shut up about it. And, you know, some of them are kinda cute."

Rinoa pointed to a pair excessively tanned of young men just to the left of the handsome quartet, their muscled chests exposed and in clothing that looked vaguely like modified fishing waders.

"Nah," Selphie decided. "That Tidus is way too spray-tanned to be the real one. And Wakka's hair is way taller than that. Good effort, though. I'd give them a 4 out of 5."

The young men in black approached the desk. The smallest one clutched a camera in his hands, broke from the pack, and sprinted up to the counter.

"S'cuse me. We'd like to see the chocobos."

"Hey," Selphie said to the guy. "I like your pants."

"Oh, uh, thanks!" he said with a big, friendly smile and a giggle. "I like your... head thingy."

Selphie touched her tiara and beamed. "I'm getting married!"

"That's a shame," the big shirtless one said. "You look like a girl who knows how to have a good time."

"Do I ever!"

Selphie never registered stranger danger until it was already too late. This guy was clearly trouble, what with all the scars, tattoos, and lack of appropriate attire. Who walked around wearing only leather pants, anyway? Never mind that he looked like he wrestled behemoths for fun and was probably either a mercenary or a soldier. Not that Quistis could hold that against him, nor was it right to judge based on appearance, but still, the last thing they needed was Selphie wandering off with a guy like that.

"Everyone deserves a last hurrah before the big day," he said with a charming smile. He patted the little guy on the shoulder. "Maybe if you're real good, Prompto here will let you get in those pants."

" _Dude_! That is not okay!" Prompto shouted.

"Perhaps a little decorum is in order?" the bespectacled one said. "We are in public after all."

Quistis shared a glance with the man. His expression mirrored her own feelings about the direction this conversation was headed.

He was handsome, looked intelligent, was obviously the mom-friend, and his clothing, though business-casual, appeared expensive and well tailored.

On the surface, he seemed like the scholarly sort who preferred books to weapons, but there was something about him that said that he could be deadly when he needed to be.

"All right, Lt. Commander Trepe," the clerk said. "Everything's set. You're on the top floor, room 2001. Here are your keys, and someone will be up shortly with complimentary champagne and refreshments. Please enjoy your stay and let us know if there's anything you need!"

Quistis accepted her receipt and deliberately avoided looking at the total. Instead she cast a surreptitious glance at the bespectacled man, then at his expensive-looking driving gloves. She'd always admired the fitted leather gloves in shops, but she'd never known anyone who actually wore them and could never justify buying a pair for herself.

"Anaconduar?" she asked and nodded at his hands.

"Coeurl skin," he said. "Far more durable."

"I assume that means you use them for more than just driving."

"You are correct," he said with a wry smile. "Lt. Commander, is it?"

"Quistis Trepe. Balamb Garden."

"Impressive."

"IGGY!" Prompto shouted. "HALP!"

They both turned to find the big guy had Prompto in a headlock. Prompto fought and flailed, but his efforts were in vain. The bigger man was unperturbed, and the dark-haired young man with them stood aside, laughing and unwilling to help.

"I'm sure whatever you did, you deserve it," Iggy said and waved the boy off.

"I demand to see the chocobos!" Selphie shouted at the clerk. "Where are they?!"

"Ma'am, the chocobos are for MoogleCon guests only."

"That's an outrage! We just booked the most expensive room in the place and you're telling me we aren't good enough to see the chocobos just because we don't have tickets for the moogle thing? That should be complimentary considering how much we just spent!"

 _"I spent_ ," Quistis said to herself.

She pressed her palms to her face, thought about how good that massage was going to feel later, and considered her list of reasons why she was Selphie's friend in the first place.

It was a short list. And getting shorter by the minute.

" _Gladio, lemme go!"_

The bespectacled man cast his friends a glance and shook his head, once again mirroring Quistis' own irritation with Selphie's behavior.

"I never do this, but perhaps you'd like to join me for a drink later," he said. "It seems as though we both might need one."

Quistis was used to being hit on. Happened all the time. What she wasn't used to was being hit on by someone she actually found attractive or had things in common with. He seemed like the sort of man who could hold an intelligent discussion without being arrogant about it, he'd probably seen his share of battle, and he was easy on the eyes to boot.

But, Quistis also had a rule about not drinking with strangers. Even handsome, stylish ones who smelled like cookies and fresh coffee and seemed as harassed as she was.

 _"I want to see chocobos! Right now!"_

 _"Ack! Help me Noct!"_

 _"You did this to yourself."_

 _"Selphie, that's enough."_

"My name is Ignis, by the way," the man said and extended his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Lt. Commander Trepe."

"Quistis is fine," she said as she shook his hand. "And likewise."

He had a great mouth. Full, soft-looking lips. Quistis blinked stupidly at him for a moment, her hand still in his.

 _"Iggy, are we checking in or what? I'm ready for my nap."_

 _"Selphie, stop!"_

They'd only been here half an hour, and already, Quistis was stressed to the point of snapping. This guy was an oasis of calm, completely unfazed by the chaos going on around them. It helped that he was pretty and had a brain. He might provide a much needed escape from Selphie's insanity, and Quistis was tempted to break her own rules.

" _Lemmie go!"_

 _"I want to see your manager!"_

"You know what?" Quistis said. "I never do this either, but I think I'd really like to join you for that drink."

"Excellent," he said with a pleased smile. "Perhaps around seven?"

She glanced over at Selphie and Rinoa, the pair on the verge of a slap fight as Rinoa wrestled a screaming Selphie away from the desk. Some of Selphie's drink sloshed down the front of Rinoa's dress and Rinoa shrieked.

"There is ice in my cleavage!" Rinoa shouted. "Do not make me use meteor on you!"

"What cleavage?" Selphie retorted. "And try again! I'm junctioned against meteor, so hah!"

Quistis was going to kill them both. Less so Rinoa, because she was just trying to reign Selphie in, but at the moment, Rinoa was well past provoked and starting to look a lot more sorceressy than usual. It might actually take a sedative or two to bring her back to normal.

"Can we make it eight?" Quistis asked. "I'll have to sedate the bride-to-be first. Possibly the maid of honor, too."

Ignis' smile was understanding and he leaned in like he was about to share a secret.

"I've found a bit of sleeping powder in tea works best. The heat causes the drug to absorb into the bloodstream faster," Ignis said. "I add a little honey, to cover the bitterness."

Quistis was surprised into a laugh. She covered her mouth with her palm.

"Done that before, have you?"

"More often than I'd like to admit," he said. "And eight sounds perfect."

* * *

"So, wait, he asked you out and you accepted?" Selphie demanded.

"What's so strange about that?" Quistis asked.

"Because you're really picky about men?" Rinoa chimed in. She flinched when Quistis turned a cool glare her way and she held up her hands in defense. "I'm just saying, I've never seen you give any guy the time of day, and then this random shows up and you say yes. It's not like you."

Quistis couldn't go anywhere without some guy trying to pick her up and she always shut them down. Even the good looking ones. Rinoa couldn't help but wonder what it was about this one that got her attention. He was good looking, but not really a stunner, in Rinoa's opinion. Not that looks were everything, but it was unusual for Quistis to give any man more than a passing glance.

"He was nice."

"Nice?" Selphie asked. "That's it?"

Quistis struggled to hide a smile and Rinoa narrowed her eyes.

"You liked him."

"It's not a big deal," Quistis said. "It's not like I'm going to marry him. It's just one drink."

"Or five," Selphie said with a maniacal grin. "It's okay. You got an itch? Go scratch."

Quistis made a face.

"You definitely could do worse," Rinoa said. "Besides. What happens at the bachelorette party stays at the bachelorette party." She paused and turned to Selphie. "That doesn't apply to you. If Irvine can't look at strippers, then you can't bang the one that looks like a chocobo."

"He did look like a chocobo!" Selphie cried. "And I'm not going to bang him! I just love his pants, and I kinda wanna pet his hair."

The elevator came to a stop and three girls in moogle suits, carrying enormous moogle heads, stepped inside. Elbow room became a problem and Rinoa stepped back to stand beside Quistis in the corner. It was enough to distract Selphie, who struck up a conversation about where one might procure such a costume.

"So... Seifer's here," Rinoa warned Quistis. "He works in the bar."

"Why do I care?"

"Just a heads up. We've already got enough drama. I didn't want you to be unprepared. You know, with your date later."

"It's not a date."

"It's totally a date," Rinoa said. "What's his name?"

"Ignis."

"Hot."

"I thought so," Quistis said. "What am I doing? Is this a bad idea?"

Rinoa rubbed Quistis' arm and smiled. For as gorgeous as Quistis was, she was really insecure about relationships. Rinoa supposed that had a lot to do with ambition and SeeD and never getting to put herself first. Weapons, blood, guts, Quistis could handle. Interpersonal relationships, especially with men who weren't her friends, not so much.

Awkwardness aside, it was nice to see Quistis step outside her comfort zone.

"I say go for it," Rinoa said. "You never know. He could turn out to be an ass, in which case you just drink your free drink and walk away, or he could be someone you want in your life. Friend or otherwise. You've got nothing to lose."

Quistis' brows knitted.

"He insinuated he drugs his friend's tea with sleeping powder, not that I blame him," Quistis said. "And granted, I mentioned I might have to sedate Selphie, but... should I be concerned?"

Rinoa pretended to consider it. She had no intention of letting Quistis off the hook.

"Normally I'd say yes, but you brought it up and we actually _were_ planning to drug her," Rinoa said. "So... I would consider it friendly advice. I personally didn't think of tea, but that's actually brilliant. I bet it would work faster because it's warm."

Quistis covered her mouth and giggled.

"This whole thing is a disaster," Quistis said. "The things we do for a moment to ourselves."

"But we love her."

Quistis sobered and cast a glance to the bouncing soon-to-be-wed Selphie and sighed.

"She makes it hard sometimes."

Rinoa linked her arm through Quistis' and avoided getting smacked in the face by a moogle head.

"I am glad for one thing, though," Rinoa said.

"What's that?"

"That you and I get to bond over it," Rinoa said. "We don't get to spend enough time together. I kind of want that to change."

"I don't have to meet him, you know. We can go out and dance or something instead."

"Oh, no you don't," Rinoa said. "I didn't say that so you have an excuse to back out. I just meant we need to do more girl stuff together. Without the sunshine tornado throwing metaphorical cows in our path."

"I wouldn't be surprised if there was an actual cow," Quistis said. "At some point. This is Selphie we're talking about."

"True," Rinoa said. "Though, because it's Selphie, it would probably explode on impact."

Quistis laughed. "Kablooey."

The elevator stopped and two more Moogles stepped inside. There was literally no room for more, but they wedged themselves inside, pushing and jostling the others for space. Both Rinoa and Quistis were now pinned into the corner with no hope of escape. The temperature had gone up at least ten degrees and Rinoa was sweating under her thin sundress. She could feel her hair sticking to her cheeks.

"This would be a really bad time for the elevator to break down," Selphie commented. Rinoa shot her the iciest look she could muster. Selphie rolled her eyes in return. "Well it would!"

"Let's not invite more trouble," Quistis said.

The elevator did not break down. The crew of moogles exited the elevator on the 19th floor and not a minute too soon. Rinoa was in danger of having a panic attack due to a touch of claustrophobia and the heat, both maladies remedied the second the elevator was clear.

"Here we are," Quistis said. "Room 2001. Shall we, ladies?"

Selphie snatched the key card from Quistis' hand and burst into the hotel room ahead of them. Once inside, Selphie screamed at the top of her lungs. Fearful she'd found a ruby dragon or a dead body, Quistis rushed in behind her, ready to fight, but there was nothing out of the ordinary.

Except, it was probably the most luxurious room Quistis had ever seen. Everything looked expensive in an elegant-modern way, from the plush white couches to the fine crystal behind the fully stocked bar.

"This is so awesome!" Selphie shrieked. "Thank you so much, Quistis! This is going to be the best party ever!"

"You're paying me back," Quistis reminded her. "Every single Gil."

Selphie ignored Quistis and dashed toward the bar and looked at all the bottles of alcohol with great interest.

"Oooh. Absinthe. I've never had that."

"And you won't unless you pay for it yourself, at the bar downstairs. This room was already too expensive. Don't add to it," Quistis said.

"But it's free."

"It's not free. They charge it to my card. You've done enough damage as it is."

"Besides, the clerk said there was champagne on the way, right?" Rinoa said. "Let's drink that and see if we can't arrange for some massages before Quistis goes on her big date."

"It's not a date," Quistis said. "And a massage sounds like a great idea."

"I'll see if I can arrange it," Rinoa said. "Selphie, how about a cup of tea while we wait? There's chamomile, orange spice, peppermint..."

"Peppermint sounds nice," Selphie said. "It'll calm my nerves."

Rinoa exchanged a glance with Quistis. _Her_ nerves!

Quistis had something far more effective for that than peppermint tea. If they were lucky, maybe Selphie would pass out before the masseuse arrived and they'd have a peaceful, non-crazy evening ahead of them.

"So, what are you planning to wear?" Rinoa asked as she turned on the electric kettle.

"I'm not sure," Quistis said. "My brain says something practical and conservative, but the rest of me says _knock him dead_."

"Definitely the second one," Rinoa said. "Show me what you brought?"

Quistis carried her suitcase into one of the bedrooms. Inside, a king-sized bed covered in a creamy silk duvet dominated the bulk of the room. A chandelier hung above it, and the walls were papered in soft, patterned silk. Off to the left was a large bathroom with a huge shower, a hot tub, and a small sauna.

"Wow."

"Yeah," Rinoa agreed. "This place is something else."

Quistis unzipped the suitcase, found her toiletry bag and passed Rinoa two pouches.

"I'd say one should be enough, but I don't want to take any chances."

"We're really doing this?"

"Do we have another option?" Quistis asked.

"I suppose not," Rinoa said. She poked through the neatly folded clothing in the suitcase, found something red and slinky, and tugged it out of the stack. "And you're wearing this tonight."

Quistis took the dress and held it up. She brought it, but didn't really intend to wear it. She just liked having the option of something ultra feminine and sexy in her arsenal.

"I don't know..."

"You're wearing it," Rinoa said and thrust a pair of matching strappy heels at her. "And you're going to look amazing."

The tea kettle shrieked and Rinoa tucked the sleep powders inside the bodice of her dress.

"I can't believe we're doing this," she said.

"We're... Let's consider it a precautionary measure," Quistis said. "It's for the good of everyone here."

"I thought we were just joking around," Rinoa said.

"It's not going to hurt her. I use them all the time," Quistis said. "She'll just go to sleep and nothing will explode. What's the harm in that?"

"And what happens when she wakes up and wants to know how she missed her own bachelorette party?"

"We'll tell her she got wasted and passed out."

Rinoa eyed Quistis critically.

"You are way more devious than you let on."

"I'm a SeeD," Quistis said, matter of fact. "And we always have a plan to minimize potential damage."

* * *

Selphie swallowed down the last of her peppermint tea and set the cup on the bar. She had so many ideas about what to do first. There was the casino. The drinks at the bar were good. Maybe try the food at the buffet. She wanted to hunt down the cutie with the fun pants and devise a plan to see the chocobos, even if they had to break in. Maybe dance on a table. The possibilities were endless.

She stood up to announce the first order of business for the night, but her head spun. She covered a yawn with her hand, and zigzagged drunkenly toward the couch. She needed to sit for a minute.

"I feel kinda funny," she said and spilled onto the cushions like her body was made of liquid.

Seconds later, her eyes slipped shut and she started to snore.

* * *

Notes:

Yeah. Crackfic. This veered way off into crossover territory, but I'm leaving it here because the crossover sections on this site are actual ghost towns and I actually do want people to read and enjoy this.

As always, thanks for reading! Hope you liked it because I had sooo much fun writing it.


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